All In A Day's Work
by ForRomance
Summary: SHOTS FOR EVERYONE! Well, oneshots that is. Filled with lots of BB lovin'... and sometimes chocolate. Enjoy! UPDATED for the first time in... ages.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello all! I am starting a set of one-shots for our favorite pair. Almost positive there will be no plot (mostly because I don't want to have to write one), just FLUFF! You know, that makes me think of that marshmallow spread stuff that we used to buy… and then it would go bad by getting stale, sort of, and my mom would get pissed for wasting money on it… But anyway, hope you enjoy this!

Disclaimer: If only… Bones and M&Ms Booth and chocolate… yummy.

THE Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab was, for the most part, dark at eleven o'clock at night. The only sources of light came from the hallway leading away to civilization and from the office of one Dr. Temperance Brennan. It was a characteristic late night for her, sitting at her desk, filling out the required authorization forms from Zach's latest "limbo" case. She let out a soft sigh, more out of tiredness than boredom. She had chosen forensic anthropology as her career for a reason - sleep could wait a few more minutes in the name of making things right. Engrossed in her work, Brennan didn't hear the man who was tiptoeing not so quietly towards her office. Booth had decided, upon entering the lab and seeing that no one else was here besides his partner, that he had a fun game to play - Detectives. Of course, he mused silently to himself, his job was essentially that of a detective, but a hell of a lot cooler. Still, he continued on in his exaggeratedly covert expedition to her office. He crept up to the door, peeking carefully around the frame with his usual grin plastered on his face. He waited anxiously for Bones to make a comment on his idiocy, but surprisingly none came. A small frown fell upon the man's features, until he smiled again and changed his plan of action.

"Boo!" He said, stepping into the doorway.

A small screech filled the air as his partner looked up from her work in shock, hands clasped to her chest. Her gaze immediately hardened as she saw who was there, and she let out a huff of annoyance.

"Booth, what are you doing here?"

"I'm bored," he said, finally stepping into the office.

She sent a pointed glare in his direction, turning her head back to the forms.

"And you decided that giving me a heart attack sounded like some good old-fashioned fun?" She replied with a frown.

"No, I was hoping that we could hang out." He gave her his infamous charm smile.

"You do realize that it's the middle of the night, don't you?" Brennan asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

"Don't you?" He shot back, approaching her desk with a slight swagger and an even bigger grin.

She exhaled again and shot him an even scarier glare. "Look, Booth, I know that in your total disrespect for my work you believe that you can drag me away whenever you want to, but I have things to do here. I have paperwork to fill out, and a book to write, and I haven't had time to work on any of that since the Campbell case. So don't even try to make me leave, or I'll have you unconscious on the ground in ten seconds flat."

"Hey, I have all kinds of respect for your work, Bones!" Booth was starting to get irritated now - what he had thought would be a fun plan was turning into another argument. They always argued, but it was usually good-natured. He got more annoyed as he prepared to explain to her, yet again, that he thought what she did was amazing. However, he was quickly mollified by her softened words.

"I'm sorry, Booth," she said with a sigh. "I just really need to get this done. I didn't mean to be rude."

"It's okay, Bones," he replied. Sorry that I scared you and all that." He stood for a few moments with his hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do next. Then, with a half smile, he asked, "Would you mind terribly if I hung out with you for a bit?"

Brennan looked up at him, puzzled, but decided not to ask him why he wasn't going home at this time of night if he didn't have work to do. "Sure," she replied with a small wave to the couch. "You can sit if you'd like."

"Thanks, Bones." He said gratefully, and plopped down on the couch with his feet on the coffee table. After a moment's hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out two packets of M&Ms. He glanced up at his partner, who was looking down at her work again with a slight frown and a thoughtful look. He smiled, just watching her, glad that he had her in his life. And so he stood up, walked quietly to her desk, and laid down one of the bags of M&Ms.

She caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and studied the candy for a moment. She looked up at him, and a warm smile spread across her face. He smiled back, and turned back to the couch to just sit and watch her work. She looked again at the candy and reached for it, still smiling. She always seemed to smile when Booth was around.


	2. Badass Black Coffee

A/N: I'm back! It's been a crazy week or so, what with EMT class (which I nearly failed out of!) and vacationing on the Cape. I got a bunch o' ideas from all of that, especially because of my iPod... so I think that from now on my pieces are each going to have a theme song. For this one, it is Straight Lines by Silverchair. Not that it inspired me for this, I just really like that song... Actually, I was inspired by drinking coffee during a break in class tonight. ANYWAYS, this note is far longer than it needs to be. On with the show!

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or Straight Lines.

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Taking Your Coffee Black is Badass

Seeley Booth strolled into the Jeffersonian at half past 7 with two cups of coffee, a bag of bagels, and a mission. He was hoping to arrive before Bones to surprise her with breakfast, despite the fact that she said she hated surprises. No one can hate a breakfast surprise, he thought to himself determinedly. He came up to her office, stopping with a frown when he saw that she was already hard at work. He could tell she was tired from the way in which her forehead was currently resting on her hand, her right elbow sustaining the weight of that enormous brain. She was scanning the papers in front of her through half-closed eyes, and yet she still seemed to be making progress. Booth watched as she grabbed one sheet of paper and stood from her desk, turning to the door.

"Booth!" She exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise. "What are you doing here so early?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied with a smirk. He sauntered into the room, coming to a stop in front of his partner. "I brought you breakfast," he conceded when she kept staring at him questioningly. He held out the bag and one of the coffees. She immediately reached for the bag and opened it.

"Did you get me a cinnamon raisin?" she asked, peering into the bag.

"Of course," he answered with a smile. "And your black coffee," he added.

"Good. I didn't have time for breakfast today," she replied, pulling out her desired bagel and heading over to the couch. She plopped down with a sigh, and Booth had to smile at her behavior. I rarely see her this relaxed, he mused to himself. He followed her to the couch and mimicked her actions, falling to the couch with a small grunt. Brennan, meanwhile, was engrossed in her bagel and the case, chewing animatedly as she looked over the paper she had picked up from her desk before.

A thought came to Booth's head as he looked over to see her take a sip from her coffee.

"Why do you take your coffee black?" he asked suddenly.

She looked over at him with a bemused expression. "And non sequitur for the day goes to..." she replied. He had to smile at her attempt at humor.

"I was just wondering," he said. He kept looking at her expectantly, so she gave it a second of thought.

"No particular reason, I guess," she said. "I mean, I just don't like the taste of cream or milk or sugar in my coffee." She paused for a moment. "Why do you want to know?" She turned her curious gaze to him.

"I don't know," he said. He sent her his patented charm smile. "Taking your coffee black is pretty badass, you know." His grin got even wider.

"I have no clue what that means," she replied, looking at him as if he had grown a second head.

"It's just different, Bones, that's all." He couldn't help but be mildly exasperated at her inability to ever know what he was talking about. She sent him another inquisitive look, and he just sighed. "Go back to your coffee and your paperwork, Bones," he said. He stood up and walked to the door. "Call me if you figure anything out, okay?"

She didn't reply, and he turned around to see that she had returned her attention to her work. He smiled, a bit ruefully, and turned again to leave. As he walked through the door, he heard a small, "Thanks, Booth." And this time, his smile was genuine.

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A/N 2: Something I just noticed - I seem to like to end my fics with smiling. What's up with that? Plus, Booth seems to do a lot of fancy walking, and Bones always asks him what he is doing in her office... I'll have to work on that. : D Hope you liked it!


	3. Knowing

**A/N: WOOHOO!!! I finally figured out how to get my formatting to show up here… I'm kind of a tech geek so I should have figured that out a LOT sooner… oh, well. So. Crappy day today, and it's only 8:40 in the morning! Therefore, a mildly angsty installation, in the form of a song fic. I don't really like song fics, but basically all of the songs by this artist (Mat Kearney) directly reflect anything Bones-like… it's kind of awesome. I'm saying this one-shot takes place after Brennan has to shoot that guy in the warehouse, just because I got a sudden inspiration to that end while I was writing it. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Bones and Can't Break Her Fall are not mine.**

_She says today is gonna be the last one_

_I know there's never gonna be an easy way out_

He couldn't just leave her, that he knew. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he just left her alone in her distressed state. She was, well, everything to him. He couldn't deny her when she pleaded for his companionship, if just for one night.

It wasn't sexual, at all. If it had been, he didn't think he could take it - being with her without _being_ with her. But it was almost worse, more torturous than that physicality. It was more, so much more than either of them would ever admit.

_She's rolling round the town with a fast gun_

_And I know I can't be there to catch her when she falls_

She was exhausted when she called - it was nearly 3 in the morning, and he knew for a fact that she hadn't left the lab until well after 11. Had she been up since then? Judging by the sound of her voice, constricted by the tears that were threatening to fall, he'd wager a guess that she had been up for hours, unable to sleep, just as he had after his first kill.

He shuddered to think of what she had been reduced to by Epps. The bastard had torn his partner down, slowly and painfully. She was scared that he had made her like him - a monster. He knew he couldn't save her from that, that feeling like you are what's wrong with the world. It was… terrible. There was no getting around it. His only thought was that he could be there for her, knowing what it felt like.

_Well half way down is half way out of here_

_We're either halfway drowned or half way 'round the pier_

_When you're that far gone_

She had said she was fine, refused to drown her sorrows in alcohol or really admit to him what she was feeling. But he knew. He always knew with her. Her call confirmed that she needed him right now, even if she couldn't form the words to say so. He had picked up the phone, half-groggy with sleep, muttering, "Hello."

"Hi, Booth?" Her voice was tentative, uncertain, as if she wasn't sure if she should be doing this. And maybe she shouldn't. He had asked her if she was okay, but all she could get out was a stuttered, "I- I don't…". She had trailed off, and that more than anything had convinced him that she wasn't fine. Temperance Brennan was never at a loss for words.

_I walked the steps to her apartment with the window by the shore_

_And saw her curled on the tile through a crack in the door_

_I've been searching for the words I don't know how to say_

_I've been searching for the words to make it go away_

_I spent all of last night and the night before that_

_With my feet in the sand and the wind on my back_

_Watching a ship sail out to a blue wide sea_

_There must be more than this with a kiss we can't see_

That first night, he had walked quickly up the sidewalk, unsure what to expect when he reached the apartment. He found that his hand was trembling as he turned his spare key in the lock. The rooms were dark; the only light came from a hallway in front of him. He entered and walked carefully, quietly to the closed bathroom door. He couldn't explain why he felt he was disturbing something by coming here, throwing something off balance. Although if he was honest with himself, he could say it had to do with the delicate dance that they were always doing. He couldn't ever tell her how much he worried about her, day to day. It was always worse when she had a hard day. It was he who couldn't sleep at night. But he couldn't tell her because everything would change.

_Well half way down is half way out of here_

_We're either half way drowned or half way round the pier_

_I can't break her, I can't break her fall_

_She's lying in the back room, crying on the bathroom floor_

_Singing I can't take it, I can't take any more_

_Just one reason, one to believe in_

_That's not that far gone_

_Not that far gone_

It was agony, seeing her right in front of him as he stood in the doorway to the bathroom. It was that pain in his own heart that made him pause, just for a split second. And then he stepped forward, and sat closer to her than he ever had before, and held her to him. Sobs racked her body, her breath coming out in sharp gasps that terrified him. His body shook with hers, and he felt his heart breaking at the utter helplessness and vulnerability of the woman in his arms. He pulled her closer, gently rubbing her back until the tears had subsided and she lay still in his arms, the only movement her shuddering breaths. Soon she fell asleep, her head resting on his chest. He carried her carefully to her bedroom, his mind screaming at him that she would never let him do this on any other day.

_I held the back of her head and laid her in the bed_

_And watched the sheets raise and fall to the rhythm of her breath_

_Turn the lock on the handle and slipped down the stairs_

_To the cover of the night with diamonds in the air_

_I'll say a prayer in my breath and take a left at the water_

_To the rhythm of my feet a sister and a daughter_

_To the rhythm of the sea with the breeze in the autumn_

_As it blows through the trees my hands into the water_

He wanted so much to stay, to just be there with her; but he knew that he couldn't do that and expect things to stay the same. She wouldn't want him there in the morning, confirming that she wasn't as strong as she'd like to think - that she needed him there. He walked slowly out of her apartment and past his car, his feet seeming to have a mind of their own. He shoved his hands into his pockets and kept his head down, repeating in his mind a prayer of salvation for her. It didn't matter that she didn't believe in God, it was all he could do for her now. His comforting her tonight, the prayer - this was how he showed how much he cared, if she would just open her eyes. Angela cared as her best friend; Max and Russ cared, albeit unconventionally, but he was _there._ And right now, someone just being there was all she needed.

_Well half way down is half way out of here_

_We're either half way drowned or half way round the pier_

_I can't break her, I can't break her fall_

_She's lying in the back room, crying on the bathroom floor_

_Singing I can't take it, I can't take any more_

_Just one reason, one to believe in_

_That's not that far_

_I can't break her, I can't break her fall_

_She's lying in the back room, crying on the bathroom floor_

_And I can't take it, I can't take anymore_

It hurt, knowing how much she was suffering. And he did know, first-hand. He didn't want that for her. He didn't want her to go through what he had gone through. But all he could do was be there, coming to her apartment in the middle of the night when she called him with tears in her voice. He could hold her closer to him than he ever would normally, secure in the knowledge that she never mentioned their late night meetings after the fact. Knowing that she wouldn't call him out for comforting her. Sometimes she apologized, telling him he didn't have to stay between sobs, but they both knew he wasn't going anywhere. He couldn't. He had to be there because he couldn't let her suffer alone.

_She says today is gonna be the last time_

_And I know there's never gonna be an easy way out_


	4. Gravity

_A/N: Oh, how many moons have passed since I've written a single word. Really, many, many moons - like MONTHS of moons. I blame so many things (mostly my own lack of inspiration), but here it is - in the middle of exam week, when I should be studying, an inspiration of the worst kind. Why is is that I'm always writing songfics when I dislike them so much? Oh, well. Enjoy, mis chicas (y chicos? I suppose there are some male-types on this site.) Anywho, poor Booth… how he struggles with his Catholic ideals, his moral inclinations, his strident desire for justice… and his intense desire for his seemingly unattainable partner. Here it is, folks: my return to writing in a one-shot inspired by "Gravity" by John Mayer (which I don't own). I hope you enjoy it._

_Disclaimer: Sadly, no. _

Gravity

Is working against me

And gravity

Wants to bring me down

He sits at the bar, as he has so many nights. He sits, and he watches the beer sloshing against the sides of the bottle, as he has so many nights. The hours after work typically find him here. Drinking away his sorrows in such a cliche way it makes him sick. He can see the scene, technicolor with a dark hue: man, tortured by his past deeds, turns to gambling, eventually drinking. He sighs, knowing the futility of trying to erase what he's done. The other part of him - the masochist, he likes to think of it as - forces him to take another swig of the lovely alcohol. Why is it that the masochist has control so often these days? Even - no, especially - when it comes to her.

He knows. He won't say it, but he knows. Just how much she is to him, everything she shouldn't be. "Partners," "guy hugs" - the words mean nothing to him anymore. "Girlfriend" - now there's a word he hasn't even thought of in months.

Oh, I'll never know

What makes this man

With all the love

That his heart can stand

Dream of ways

To throw it all away

So many opportunities, he's had. He knows it. He's endowed, certainly (oh, in so many ways). But somehow, he can't do it anymore. He can be the "perfect boyfriend", bringing flowers and paying for cabs, but it doesn't _mean_ anything anymore. Because all of his heart is somewhere else entirely. Trapped, really, by her brilliant eyes, her hidden vulnerability, her passion for everything he tries to stand for.

Oh, Gravity

Is working against me

And gravity

Wants to bring me down

Oh, twice as much

Ain't twice as good

And can't sustain

Like one half could

It's wanting more

It's gonna send me to my knees

He has a friend, an amazingly unique and extraordinary friend. Has he ever felt like this before? No. The answer, resoundingly, is no. What if they were to go for more? Would it all fall apart? How would the bickering, nagging, typical relationship… shit, for lack of a better word, ruin them? If there's one thing that scares him, it's losing her. Losing all she is to him because she would see him without the lines, without the boundaries, completely unbridled in the form that he's only let her see a few times since he's known her. Could she handle all that he is? She's strong. God, she's strong. But he can barely stand his own self sometimes. How can he expect her to do the same, day in, day out, when all it comes down to is the two of them? He doesn't want to be the one to break her - and, in the process, break himself.

Oh, twice as much

Ain't twice as good

And can't sustain

Like one half could

It's wanting more

It's gonna send me to my knees

Oh, gravity

Stay the hell away from me

Oh, gravity

Has taken better men than me

Now how can that be?

What is this headfirst free fall he's been going through since he met her? It's like, he sees in her eyes all the things he's thrown away over the years (some to regain, others not) - hope, love, fear, pain, strength, heart. How is it that she can be all of those things? Make him feel like he's losing himself in his past, present, future, falling into those old patterns of slowly causing his own downfall - gambling, killing (government-sanctioned or not)… drinking on nights when he can only see the disappointment he is to his parents, his ex, his son, his superiors… to her.

Just keep me where the light is

Just keep me where the light is

Just keep me where the light is

He can't let himself go for her. He's killing himself, loving so unrequitedly. He knows he has to keep his head above this, remember the logical ramifications of caring for her too much. It's what she would do, after all. Rationalize and deduce and conclude that "romantic relationships are not conducive to an effective working relationship" or something like that.

C'mon keep me where the light is

C'mon keep me where the light is

C'mon keep me where, keep me where the light is

"Booth," he hears. Oh, that voice. The one that makes his poor heart leap. He knows how much trouble he's in with her around.

But still, he can't help the smile that spreads across his face as he turns around to see her standing there. And he can't help but think, maybe it's worth the darkness just to be near her light.

_Of course it's worth it, you dumbass! Now if only the people who actually own this show could figure that out… Oh, well. Read and review, peeps. [Oooh, now I really want Marshmallow Peeps. A whole box of Marshmallow Peeps to each reviewer! Or Booth. Whichever you prefer. I'm sure I'll be running out of Peeps… ha._

_-FR_


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